Chamomiles
by Dark Ride
Summary: A Mother's Day in post 3A AU Storybrooke. Henry and Neal make breakfasts for their respective mothers. SwanFireQueen, Rumbelle.


A Mother's Day fic. A day late but whatever. Background Rumbelle, Neal/Belle broship (or well, stepmom/stepson dynamics), SwanFireQueen coparenting, Henry being adorable. Could be seen as part of my Building Rome verse (Pan is in Pandora's Box, Rumple never died, they are all still in Storybrooke,  
Emma/Regina/Neal are raising Henry together - just a platonic ship at first, but developing into something more).

Also, there's enough fluff to make a cat choke on it.

* * *

_It's a good thing that Papa and Belle are both early risers,_ Neal thought as he unlocked the door to his father's house and slipped inside. It was half past five in the morning on the second Sunday in May and he hoped to have everything ready by six which was the usual time when his father and step-mother got up.

Breakfast in bed was a long-standing tradition on this particular day in this world and, having someone to honour this way for the first time in centuries, Neal went with it.

His father had provided him with all the necessary information on Belle's likes and dislikes and it was a work of a few minutes to prepare a grilled cheese sandwich, slice the fresh tomatoes he had picked up at the market, pour a glass of peach-flavoured ice tea and set everything up on a wooden tray with folding legs he found in the cabinet above the sink.

One glance at the clock let him know he still had about ten minutes left. He added the second-to-last touch to the set-up - a short vase with a wide brim, filled with short lilac stems in full bloom. Belle enjoyed the scent and it was the season for it.

The very last item he put on the tray was a flat blue square box. He had two others in his pocket, one red and one green, with the identical content.

At five to six, he sent a short text to his father - he had run his plan for the morning by him but he had walked in on them enough times to know that Belle had a singular ability to make Rumplestiltskin forget his own name, nevermind everything else - and upon receiving a confirmation, he lifted the tray and walked upstairs to the master bedroom.

He still knocked twice and waited for an answer before shouldering the door open.

Belle was just sitting up, blinking sleepily at him as she yawned. His father was more composed although Neal caught the quickly hidden look of amazement directed at the woman next to him.

"Neal?" Belle asked as she pulled the covers into her lap. "What are you doing here?"

"Happy Mother's Day, Mom," he said and although he usually teased her with that title, it lacked the joking quality this time. "I made you breakfast."

He gestured with the tray and she sat up fully, leaning against the headboard while he arranged the tray across her legs. She smiled widely upon seeing the treats.

"Thank you," she said as she picked up the vase and smelled the lilacs.

"It's a tradition," he replied. "A way to say thank you for everything."

"It's not necessary," she told him but he could tell she was pleased. So was his father.

"There's nothing wrong with your son spoiling you a bit." Rumplestiltskin's voice caught a bit at the 'son' part. Neal understood the feeling. Getting to have everything you ever wanted could be overwhelming and his father still found it hard to believe that he of all people was deserving of that.

"No, I guess not," Belle replied as she picked up the blue box and opened it. "Oh, it's beautiful," she gasped and took out the pendant that was inside. It was a chamomile, a gold base enameled in white and yellow, each petal a small art piece of its own.

"I hoped you would like it," Neal said, shrugging off the praise. It might have been a bit unconventional, gifting your step-mother with a piece of jewellery but he had liked the pendant from the moment he had seen it in the display window. A small research into the meaning behind the flower had him buying three pieces, one for each of the special women in his life.

Belle smiled at him and reached for him, pulling him into a slightly uncomfortable hug, since he was trying not to upset the tray. His father solved the problem by moving the tray into his own lap.

"Thank you, Bae," she murmurred into his hair and Neal had to swallow twice. Belle rarely called him that, reserving the name for situations when he sought her company as a mother figure, rather than the friend she usually was.

"You're welcome, Mom."

She let him go and quickly wiped at her eyes before showing off the pendant to Rumplestiltskin.

"Look what our son got me," she said with a beaming smile and Neal pretended not to see the teary look his father got in his eyes.

"He's got a good taste, like his father," Rumplestiltskin said a bit thickly before tranferring the tray back to her. "Speaking of taste, you should eat while it's warm, sweetheart."

Neal took a step back, watching as his father fussed over this remarkable woman before checking his watch.

"I need to get going," he announced. "I promised Henry I'd help him with his own surprise for his mothers."

"Of course," Belle replied, pausing in her eating. "Say hello to him for me."

"I will," he assured her and nodded at his father. "Enjoy your day."

He walked out of the room but not before he heard his father's muttered reply and Belle's answering laugh. He wondered how long it was going to be before he had a helper for the Mother's Day breakfast tradition.

* * *

He got back to the house at half past six and was met with Henry who was practically bouncing with excitement. If he didn't know any better, he would think his son had drunk several cups of coffee.

"Okay, calm down, tiger," Neal told him as he surveyed the kitchen. Henry had already pulled out all of the necessary ingredients but Neal was glad to notice the boy had heeded his advice and hadn't started preparing the breakfast on his own. "First things first. Get the mixer and a deep bowl."

"The mixer and a deep bowl," Henry repeated as he set the two things on the countertop.

"Now, you want to pay attention because I'm going to share my super secret recipe for the fruit pancakes," Neal said, picking up the bag of flour. "They're nothing like the ones from the box because I make them from the scratch. And you can believe me when I tell you that you can really taste the difference."

Henry nodded and observed as Neal poured the flour into a measuring cup. He explained every step he did, his bachelor years having taught him a lot about cooking. He hadn't wanted to rely on the take-out or eating out and so he had learned on his own, using cookbooks and watching shows. And now he could share his experience with his son.

He explained how the flour, sugar, milk, eggs, baking powder and vanilla extract formed the base. He let Henry mix the ingredients together until they had the sweet and thick batter ready for use. They splitted it then, mixing in cinnamon into one half and cocoa powder into the other. They added the fruit generously into both mixes - raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, blackberries - stirring the batter carefully so as not to crush the small fruits.

Neal took over the pouring, frying and flipping the pancakes while Henry set the table and cleared the countertop. The time passed quickly while they worked and before they knew it, it was half past seven and there were four stacks of golden pancakes ready to be eaten.

Neal sent Henry to clean up and to wake up his mothers while he finished, slicing apples and peeling oranges and putting the pieces into two bowls. He quickly checked that everything was turned off before heading up to wash, too.

He made it back to the kitchen just in time to greet Emma with a cup of coffee which she gratefully accepted. Regina arrived a few moments later with Henry and paused for a moment in the doorway as she took in the scene. Neal could see her mask slip for just a moment before she smiled tentatively.

"Good morning," she said and Henry grinned proudly.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mom, Mom," he said and hugged Regina before tackling Emma as well. Emma blinked, startled.

"Oh crap, it's today," she said as she patted Henry's shoulder absent-mindedly. "I totally forgot."

"Dad and I made you breakfast," Henry boasted before launching into a lengthy explanation of everything he had been up to that morning. Neal took it upon himself to serve the breakfast, the cinnamon pancakes going to Henry and Emma and the cocoa ones to himself and Regina. Emma poured the maple syrup over hers - she was a bit of a traditionalist - while Regina preferred honey. Neal took his plain and Henry dumped a bit of everything on his, including whipped cream and marmelade.

They didn't talk a lot at first, focused on their meal but Neal noticed Emma's preoccupation with something. Judging by the way Regina glanced at her, she had noticed as well. They had been living together for over five months now, having come to an agreement during the previous Christmas, and they knew each other quite well. They were friends, even if Neal was starting to realize that his old feelings for Emma were reawakening and, confusingly enough, he was starting to have similar feelings for Regina as well. But that was a matter for another day. What mattered right then was that Emma was uncomfortable. He didn't think she was upset with Henry's surprise so that left one thing.

Her parents. Emma had apparently forgotten about today's significance and had therefore nothing prepared for her own mother. She probably felt guilty and was trying to come up with something. Neal started to think of a way to help her out. He had an idea but wasn't sure whether she would like it.

"That was delicious. Thank you," Regina said as she put aside her cutlery, interrupting Neal's thoughts. "Are there any plans for the rest of today?"

Sunday was their traditional family day. They had all agreed they would try and give Henry as close to a perfect childhood as they could in the few years he had left of it. Sunday activities with all four of them participating were the best parts of their plan.

"Well, Henry wanted to go for a picnic," Neal said as he finished his own meal. "So I figured we would prepare the food now and go out around ten?"

"Sounds good," Emma said. "I'll need to run a quick errand first but it shouldn't take long."

"What errand?" Henry asked as he licked his plate clean, the adults letting it pass this one time.

"Just something I forgot," Emma told him.

"Why don't you go into the garage and find the picnic basket, Henry?" Regina asked quickly. "And there are some blankets in the storage closet we could use."

Henry looked between his mothers, then at his father and sighed theatrically.

"All right, I'll let you talk it out," he said and stood up, taking a deep bow. "Feel free to discuss grown-up things. I'll be back in half an hour."

He walked out, leaving the three adults staring after him and then both Emma and Regina glared at Neal.

"What?" he asked.

"He gets that from your side of the family," Emma said.

"Your father is a bad influence on him," Regina added.

Neal raised his hands in surrender.

"Now, now, don't blame me for the fact that our son is handsome, clever and on the verge of puberty."

Emma was the first to crack a smile and Neal and Regina quickly followed. It helped relieve the tension that had built up.

"I screwed up," Emma said. "I totally forgot about today and I have nothing for Ma- Mom."

Neal and Regina both pretended not to notice the slip.

"It's a bit late for the traditional breakfast in bed," Neal thought out loud. "That's what I did for Belle."

"Have you had any plans?" Regina asked her.

"I was thinking about maybe a picture of me? They don't have a lot of those but it's so sentimental," Emma replied slowly, grimacing a bit.

"They're a sentimental sort," Regina said with remarkably little derision. "We can help you choose one and I'll help you conjure a frame. It'll be a good magic lesson, too."

"What about the one from the Easter?" Neal suggested mischievously. "The one with the bunny ears?"

Emma turned to him, her face paling.

"You said you'd destroy all of your copies," she cried out. Neal shrugged unrepentantly.

"I did. I never said anything about Regina's copy."

Emma turned to Regina who sipped at her coffee calmly.

"You have a copy of that?"

Regina nodded, her smile wider than usual.

"I thought it was a good blackmail material."

"I hate when you gang up on me," Emma muttered but without any anger. They had a well balanced relationship. Neal and Regina ganged up on Emma just as often as Emma and Regina ganged up on Neal or Neal and Emma ganged up on Regina. It was a give and take on all sides and all three of them relished their little tugs of war.

"But your mom will love it," Neal pointed out.

"Right," Emma groaned. "Why am I letting you talk me into this again?"

"Because you know we're right," Regina pointed out. She stood up. "I'm going to get the picture."

"I'll clean up," Neal said. "But first, I've got something for the two of you."

He pulled out the small boxes and handed the green to Emma and the red to Regina, hoping they wouldn't read too much into the gesture. The women exchanged looks before opening their presents.

"This..." Emma trailed off as she lifted the chamomile pendant. Regina was regarding her own with an unreadable expression.

"It's just a little something for my favourite ladies. I got one for Belle, too," Neal explained. "The chamomile's meaning is 'strength in adversity' and I found it really fitting, for all of you. There's no rule that says only kids give presents to their moms on this day," he added defensively.

Before he could start questioning his decision, Emma pulled him out of his chair and hugged him.

"Thank you," she told him. "And you're forgiven for the picture thing."

"Glad to hear that," he said jokingly and looked at Regina. Emma's gesture seemed to help her decide on her own reaction as she stood up and hugged him, too, after Emma let go of him. Her hug was more tentative than Emma's and she held it only for a short time but coming from Regina, it was a remarkable display of trust.

"Happy Mother's Day," Neal told them both again and was rewarded by two genuine smiles. It was shaping up to be a great day indeed.


End file.
